


Lady Luck

by Scarletnumber



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romance, Scenario, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletnumber/pseuds/Scarletnumber
Summary: This was not the deal you had with Sanji, but you had more to offer in return anyway.(Modern AU setting)
Relationships: Sanji/Reader, Vinsmoke Sanji & Reader, Vinsmoke Sanji/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Lady Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simplesimpleton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesimpleton/gifts).



> Written for someone who just got into the world of one piece. A bit of fluff to celebrate!

This wasn’t the deal.

You sighed in satisfaction, high off the hard laughter your entire stomach just went through. You took a deep breath again; you took your time, despite how his eyes were on you.

This is not what you guys agreed on.

He stayed silent, allowing you to take your time. After he had completed his mission in making you into a mess of fits and giggles, his dramatic, over the top, near silly attitude of adoration died down to what you looked forward to every night like a hard-earned reward - a calm, stilled man who was finally winding down for the night. Just like you. You gather yourself, straightened your back. You allowed your remaining elegance and poise to do its weakened best to mask over the uncontrollable fit you had just now, but it fails. The corners of your mouth could not remain still, your cheeks ached yet continued to pop up, ratting you out with that small, ghosted smile of yours. When you sigh again, looking at him once more.

“Beautiful,” he noted as he tipped his glass towards you. You rolled your eyes, but you also reach for your glass and cheer to him.

“Sanji,” you called out to him as you put your glass back down again. An octave lower than your usually delighted voice, and it does not escape him. His full attention is back on you as you remind him of your deal. “Again – please do let me know if you need to carry on with your work.”

He took another light sip of his wine before he looked around his restaurant, like as if he himself was a diner and not a sous chef and owner. You shake your head at his act as he glances around curiously.

“Well,” he spoke amusingly. “I don’t see any guests complaining for a table.”

It was just the two of you, still sitting at the only dining table not yet cleaned up. The restaurant was silent, except for the grumbling folks in the kitchen who you can hear even from here. But the grumbling, the complaints of the sous chef being a terrible womanizer, slacker – every insult fell on deaf ears of the man before you.

That repetitive guilt washes over you again tonight. If you were able to end your day sooner, you would not come dine at the last hour. You had told yourself this multiple times since the first time you found haven in this restaurant. You had happened to find this place was one of the few and remaining restaurants to still be open at the hour when you were finally to escape your work. You had wanted a good meal, one that did not come out of a plastic take out container. And by your luck, they took you in, even if it was the very last hour till closing. The sigh of relief you had slipped out your mouth when they ushered you to an empty table – you can still remember the level of exhaustion from it. So you had promised to yourself; even if the place was expensive, you would do your best to be as regular of a customer as you can – bring you or friends over during hours not inconvenient to the workers here.

That self-agreement flew out the window the same night when the sous chef personally greeted you and catered to you.

You weren’t dumb, nor were you naïve. You can tell you were not the first, nor were you likely to be the last to be given such special treatment. Well – to you. Special treatment to _you_. For Sanji, perhaps this was nothing. So you came to terms with yourself again – that this will just be a short-term comfort at the end of your days. Let him indulge you. You'll take the excessive coaxing, the over the top compliments if it meant another night being absolutely enamored by both the wine Sanji picked personally for you, along with the waft of tobacco and cinnamon you always smelled when he leaned over the back of your chair to pour you your first glass for the night. You will take an enjoyable dinner and then carry on until the next time.

But you found you’ve broken your own self-made contract once again, when ‘next time’ became close to nightly, and Sanji's occasional visits to your table become longer chats and longer stays, until finally - just an additional guest at your table. And to compensate for constantly intruding your dinner, Sanji began to discount your bill to near free, till you were sure the money you did pay out of guilt went entirely to the staff as very generous tips.

“Make sure you come back again,” Sanji had told to you in a pout after you had stubbornly argued with him for waiving your tab. “I will be devastatingly heartbroken if you suddenly stop showing up. I’ll even give you the weekends to take a break from me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, because that was the only way to mask your shock. But in a playful tone, you placed your hand out, your guilt for feeling near freeloading overwhelmed your giddiness. “Deal. But only if you tell me when I have to leave, or when I need to pay - or even if you need the table for an actual paying customer. You _must_. Got it?”

He took you by surprise when he took your hand, but instead of giving you a comradery handshake, he had lifted it and kissed the back of your hands with grace, his thumb even brushing over it. “You don't make it easy on me, huh?”

You had only laughed once more before hitting him in the arm.

It was the softness in his voice, the semi-shyness that made you curse to yourself, because it was all it took for you to sign that spoken deal. Without thought, you had lived up your end of the contract. Shamefully and yet shamelessly, you came back, again and again. But you knew that eventually, you'll outgrow the said deal, especially when you even begin to wonder if he had many spoken contracts with other woman - in the morning, another possibly in the afternoon. But you continued to ignore your greed, since Sanji made it possible so that dinner was no longer a burden or a concern after a long, exhausting day. And you have never had dinner with such hearty laughter and giggles; ones that, like a good soak in a tub, drained out of you the days’ worth of stress and tension in your muscles. All of this absolutely free, as long as you kept returning.

But because of this, your guilt grew as much as your greed. Each night, even if you always arrive at the restaurant at the same expected time, you found that when you and Sanji were to finally bid your goodnights - often only after at least the third attempt, due to your greedy indulgences for his attention, you found less and less people surrounding you. And tonight, you found that nearly no one was around you. Your greed was at its peak, and the guilt that challenged it was often just as overwhelming.

This wasn’t the deal. But as you stared at the man across from you, for once, your greed finally won and overwhelmed your own guilt tonight.

“Sanji,” you called out.

After his charade of admiring his own restaurant, he looked back at you. There was a stillness in your voice that made his content smile falter just a bit, a hint of curiosity and cautiousness at the tone of your voice. It was a much too serious tone that he could not help but notice. The nervous tick of your hand reaching for neck, your own pause despite how your mouth opened before you can process words to speak. But what you spoke was what he did not expect.

“Go on a date with me.”

Silence. Truly, you felt you should have known your place. Dinner was your place. But your heart skips in surprise as you picked up a hint of relief in his demeanor. However, it disappears within a second and you immediately doubt your intuition.

The blonde calls your name in all seriousness. His eyes falter and avert your eyes when he reached for his glass again. The tenderness and softness in his voice hits you stronger than you had expected. “You don’t have to pay me back, I’m serious. I didn’t mean to guilt-trip you into com-“

Something in his voice invoked within you the urge to reassure him. Even if the tone you picked up from him was not truly from insecurity, it didn’t hurt to assure him. “And I’m serious when I say I’m not asking you over guilt.”

The way Sanji stares at you this time, his cheeks likely tinted with more than your second bottle of wine, had hit you so hard unexpectedly that you could not look away. No matter how fast your heart was beating, you could not look away as you watched him process everything, tackle his own unsureness and hesitancy.

“Hey,” your hand reached out to him. You placed your hand on the table, snapped him out of his thoughts. You smiled at him as you leaned forward to him. You whispered to him, like you were about to share a secret. “Let’s make a deal.”

“I stop coming here - for the remaining week,” you urged the last few words of your sentence quickly before his face dropped. “And you see exactly how heartbroken you truly are.”

You took the pen that laid idle on the table and you scribbled something on the back of the once and often useless bill, finally putting it into good use. Handing it back to him, you looked back up. “See if it hurts enough for you to take the remedy this weekend. Let’s say…Saturday.”

“If not,” you playfully and dramatically sighed in defeat, a satisfied and helpless smile on you. “I guess I’ll just have to keep coming back till it does.”

Sanji stared at you wide-eyed, unsure how to take in your blatant and genuine interest in him. Out of the many deals and playful self-justifications he did in his own head, this was new. The hand you dealt was just too good, free of any bluffs he can read. You watched him admire you, and immediately you knew you had lost to your greed - you wanted more. His grin grew, a pure delight and warm excitement showed in his softened eyes as his cheeks flushed when he spoke. His voice was so gentle that you were willing to bet another round that it was specifically for you. You had a better hand this time around because you could have sworn you were Lady Luck herself, with the way he looked at you. You were all in.

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> :D


End file.
